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[10ebbor10]

The falcon looked down from his mountain top, watching over the lands below him. From his position, he could see the lake in the northwest, the steppes in the northeast, and the Forest in the South.
However, he noticed someting closer to himself. Winged ape-like creatures were gliding though the air, ignoring the treacherous winds that ruled in these mountains. Intrigued by these beings, Aeolos decided follow them to their camp. Looking from a nearby rock, Aeolus saw that had settled in a small cave that overlooked a small plateau, barely large enough for the apes to land on. But because the mountains were almost untraversable by land, and the mountain ground was not fertile enough for agriculture, the  tribal hunter/gatherers had to take risks and fly, despite their limited capabilities and the bad gliding conditions.

Aoelus liked these apes, for they had chosen to live here, closer to the skies, even though it was more dangerous than below. Therevore, he decided to chose them, and during the next few weeks, a Peregrine falcon followed them wherever they went. However, it wasn't long before a disaster happened. A particularly strong wind blew one of the older Windriders from the plateau. Aoelus followed him, and quickly caught up with him. The windrider was fighting against the overpowering downdraft, but wasn't capable to stabilize his flight. It was at that moment that Aeolus intervened, using a small gust of wind to alter the windriders trajectory, causing him to fall in a mountain lake, rather than onto the ground. After the windrider had gotten out of the lake and had collapsed on the shore, Aeolus landed next to him, and told him who he was and that he had saved him. Then he flew off, back to the tribe, and guided them towards the fallen windrider.

The windrider, who was called Sefton, was severly injured during his fall and therefore had to stay in the cave with not much to do spent his time telling the other windriders his story. The Falcon returned a few days later, landed on his shoulder and told him off the islands in the sky. He told him about the many edible fruits that were there, and about special trees and about the prey. He also told  him how to recognize and avoid the downdrafts that were often found in these lands. Sefton related these messages to the rest of the tribe later, telling them about the Falcon that had decided to watch over them.

Save Sefton, an older windrider, from falling to his doom. Sefton is severly injured in the progress. Tell him about me, the flying islands and how to avoid falling to his death again.

[Iituem]

Turn One: Foundations

In the dwarf clan, a young man dreamed of distant lands and different places - lands beyond the marshes.  Though their rafts were not steady enough for long journeys and could not stray far from land, the man ventured out further and further from his tribe.  [15] His passion for exploration drove him to try different means of crossing the waters.  In one dream he saw a leaf, curled up and floating through the river but holding a pebble within its furls.  Driven by this idea he worked hard with tools of flint and stone to carve out the innards of a fallen trunk, and within this he rowed with a flattened stick far into the ocean before being tossed back by the waves.  Though he could not cross the great expanse, the invention allowed him and his people to span far along the coasts of the marshes to fish and gather.

Buoyed by this invention he told of the true secrets of his dreams.  The clan wove reeds and flexible willow twigs into fences for the shallow waters that permeated their homes.  Within these they trapped or placed fish and crabs they had caught, maintaining stable sources of food even through the seasons where the shoals departed from their shores. [9+2] The clan's prosperity increased and its numbers swelled accordingly, with the clan moving less between fishing grounds and rather moving between the different fish farms.

The young man told also of the Dream Crow, the tiny bird that whispered in his dreams and showed him how to bring prosperity and greatness to his tribe.  [2+5] There was some skepticism, but the Dream Crow stuck around in stories and there were those (mostly children) who believed in its power.

The Dwarf Clan develop aquaculture, as well as canoes on their own initiative.  They spread across the shores of the southern cape of Imsisa and achieve prosperity.  Despite his gifts, belief in Orseth's power is limited but widespread.  She would be recognised if he appeared again.


Lilith, daughter of Reso, suffered great headaches for a time.  Knowledge and skills had been burned into her mind and it took time for her to grasp and control them.  [7+4] Kain's power helped her ease into her abilities, but at first she had difficulties controlling them.  She found that by tapping into the leylines she could channel power to move earth, break stones, find stones or ores or even bend stones into shape.  [13] Kain had chosen Lilith for her kindness and that choice held true.  Lilith turned her powers to good, [17] and proved surprisingly capable at applying them.  She carved long trenches to the hill-land streams, bringing fresh water to the tribe's roaming grounds.  She broke heavy rocks that impeded them and raised earthen walls that could be thatched for housing.  She even learned to form sharp flint tools of particularly keen edge for her kinsmen.

[23] Not only was Lilith accepted, she was made clan chief in short order.  In her position she ruled her people gracefully and fairly, training others as best she could in her art.  [15] As time passed it became clear that she did not age as her fellows and in further time she outlived even her own children, yet this was viewed by her people with only a little fear but far greater wonder at her blessing by the divine.  [10+5] Because of Lilith's clear boons the little mole Kain became greatly revered amongst her people as the teacher of magics and lord of the earth.

But magic comes at a cost.  The effects of magic are rarely clean save in the hands of a master and drawing power from the ley lines robs it in other places.  [7-2-1] So it was that throughout Lilith's rule the eartquakes that had always plagued their homes grew more frequent and greater in intensity.  Lilith and her apprentices helped to repair the damages of such events but they continued to plague their people.

The Mole Clan learn Basic Geomancy, which provides multiple benefits.  Lilith continues to live and under her guidance and by the labour saving power of geomancy the clan grows and increases its roaming area.  However the uncontrolled use of even low level geomancy without the knowledge to balance the leylines, plus the intervention of Dolrael causes an increase in earthquakes that continue to plague the area for as long as the magic is used.


The lizard clan fell down prostrate in worship of Tokchoko.  They worshipped him for near a day before he mysteriously vanished.  [6+7] Thereafter the clan held a place in their drinking order for the spirit of the lizard and would sometimes chant his name at dawn or dusk.

Time passed and as with all rituals the chanting became more elaborate.  Hides were stretched over frames of sticks and banged to accompany the chanting.  The hollow stem of a plant was cut and after its sap drunk the windriders found they could make sound by blowing over it.  A few of these reeds were bound together.  As the years passed the celebrations of dawn and dusk became more ritualised, more complex.  Frenzied shuffling accompanied the chanting and sounds, which in time became graceful motions.  The rite became the heart of a growing culture of music and dance that came to embody the Lizard Clan.

The Lizard Clan worship Tokchoko through chanting at dawn and dusk, a great honour but one restricted only to their small tribe.  Tokchoko's acts stabilise at one.

The clan invents Music as an extension of the sun rites.  Music serves as a strong binding element in the clan culture and will give them a bonus to social efforts in the future.


The boy's body was returned to the village.  [14+5] No doubt remained that it was the very beast of their nightmares that had done such a thing - Slask himself.  [12+7] Terror spread through the clan at the possibility that more children might be taken, but the boy's father told them that children would be taken regardless.  The only way that they could determine how many would be to give offerings and worship to Slask in the hope of appeasing them.  Such worship became fervent and terrible, and the father told that each year, a child would have to be given unto Slask or his terrible wrath would descend upon them once again.

[20] So scared, so determined to save their own children were the Wolf Clan that they sought to acquire other children - any children - to sate Slask's bloodlust.  They ranged far and wide, turning their hunting spears into weapons of murder and raiding.  Surrounding tribes were forced to their knees at the hands of warriors spurred on by nothing less than primal fear and the need to protect their children.  By the time the father, undisputed chief of the clan, died, the Wolves held dominion over a vast swathe of the forest, other clans sending them tributes of food and children in the hope that they might leave the rest of their people be.

Worship of Slask ascends to a terrified frenzy based around ritualistic sacrifice.  Slask is greatly empowered by their fear and the drastic lengths they go to in order to escape his wrath.

The Wolf Clan embark on years of murderous raiding to supply their god with his sacrifices.  Propelled by fear they subjugate many of the surrounding tribes and exterminate others.  The power and numbers of the clan greatly extend as a result.


Ludwig returned to shore and mourned those friends that had passed.  His head almost burst with the headaches he was suffering.  When the headaches subsided he became very aware that there was much of what the shark had told him that he could not remember.  Yet what stuck he brought home.  He made nets from reeds and grasses and brought them out with his new craft; a boat carved out of a single log.  [17-3] Equally he learned to chip flint finely and to carve thin spears into which they could be wedged.  With the throwing spears he made, fishing and hunting became a great deal easier.  With these inventions in hand, Ludwig returned to the Shark Clan and passed on what he had remembered.

[14+5] The inventions were well received, as was his tale of rescue on the back of as dangerous a thing as a shark.  This was taken as a miracle, and whenever men would fish with his nets and canoes they would throw back a small portion of the catch in honour of the great shark that had taught them.

[5] Ludwig's blessing was not so well received as Lilith's had been.  Jealousy first arose at his retained youth, then fear when it seemed he did not age at all.  Though respected by his clan, he grew more and more ostracised until at last he was a hermit living on his own by the shore.

The Shark Clan learn how to build Canoes and Throwing Spears.  The added bounty helps the clan grow significantly and worship of Imber grows with them.


Tran howled in agony until the pain in his eye dulled and the pain in his head dimmed.  Images raced through his head, along with a burning rage from the pain.  Keenest amongst the images were those of the marsh plants.  One, a long reed that might be blown through.  Others, leafy or thorny plants whose sap was deadly.  Tran dragged himself back to the camp, leaving the warthog behind him.  Along the way he found one of the plants he had seen in his visions and crushed it, rubbing the long edge of his flint knife against the mass until it was coated with the plant sap.  The whispers in his mind told him of better ways to concentrate the toxin, but he lacked the time or mind to do so.

When Tran returned, he appeared a terrible sight to behold.  His body covered with slashes from thorned plants of the forest in his flight, with bruises from his fight with the warthog and Gat, with bloodstains where they had run from his eye and with the great gaping void in his skull.  When they asked who had done this to me, he told them that the carrion crow, Utran'Vitran, was responsible.  Then he asked to see the chief.

[4+4+3] Tran challenged the chief to a duel and though the chief seemed almost insulted by the suggestion he agreed to teach the hunter a lesson.  Despite the strength and speed running through Tran's veins, the years of experience and skill behind the chief (and the partial loss of vision) brought him nearly to death.  The chief broke his dagger arm, then one leg, then the other, then beat him across the head with a club so blood ran freely and the bone cracked.  Tran managed only one cut in the whole battle, yet this was the cut that counted.  Just as the chief was ready to deliver the killing blow, his strength seemed to fail him.  He toppled to the ground, shivering and then growing flaccid as if none of his muscles could respond.  Tran, too broken to even finish him, lay there as the chief suffocated.  His knife was taken and he was nursed to health, but only so the tribe could decide whether to execute him or not.

Tran told his brethren all he could remember.  He told them of which plants to use for the poisons, how to crush and prepare them for greatest potency.  He showed them how to make a blowpipe and fletch darts, how to dip them in poisons and use them to kill.  [11+1] He even told them of a new way of fighting, quickly raiding another tribe by night, how to strike quickly with only a few men and retreat back into the marshes before they could be caught.  Though he was barred from taking part in these raids himself, his kinsmen made use of these tactics and found them very successful indeed.  All this Tran gave to save his life.

[3+3] To no avail.  When his kinsmen had gained all they could from him, they slew Tran with the very poisons he had given them.  [15+5-2] Yet despite Tran's failure to kill the chief cleanly, nobody could deny that he had returned with great knowledge and power at the cost of the crow's price.  The carrion crow became something of a legend, a figure that gave great power at personal cost.  They would pray to the crow, to Utran'Vitran, before their raids and they conducted a great many raids indeed.  [1+4] Unfortunately their surrounding neighbours did not take kindly to such tactics and, successful as they were it was only a matter of time before the surrounding marsh tribes found the path where the clan migrated and laid an ambush of their own.  [2+2] The majority of the clan were wiped out, a handful taken as slaves and distributed amongst the southern marsh tribes.  The secrets of their tactics and poison use spread amongst all the fractured marsh tribes, along with the (somewhat diluted) worship of the carrion crow.

Tran brings back the knowledge of Poisons and Hit and Run Tactics.

Tran challenges the chief and barely survives.  He is executed after surrendering all his knowledge.

The Carrion Clan engage in years of violent and successful hit and run raids on their neighbours, culminating in an alliance to destroy them.  They are all but wiped out, the survivors taken as slaves amongst the marsh clans.

Though worship amongst the Carrion survivors is fervent, general worship of Utran amongst the Southern Marshfolk is less enthusiastic.


Aford, freed from his bonds, laid low and stalked his master.  When the time was right, he went to his hut when he thought him alone, seeking his vengeance.  What did he see but his mate, coupling with the master?  Aford slaughtered the master and moved to slay his wife - only to discover she was with child.  He emerged from the master's tent, declaring his freedom and daring any to stop him.  With his master gone, nobody dared - or cared.  Aford told all who would listen of his escape, of the weasel that saved him.

[3] Aford stayed his hand half a year, then killed his mate when the birth was done, for he saw most plainly that the child was not his own.  He raised the boy, trying to give him the life he would his own, but his hatred swelled.  That which he did not take out upon his fellow Windriders, he took upon the boy.  Aford became a hunter, then a warrior - then a slaver, the most fabled and successful slaver around.  [17] He captured dozens, hundreds of windriders from all around to swell his tribe and to gather food for his people.  In the guise of training, he made a slave of his 'son' as well.  Powerful as Aford was, fitted with the finest furs and bright stones, he was hated by all for his actions, even by those who profited from him - as strongly as he hated them.

So it continued for many years until the boy, having been bound for a transgression, somehow escaped his bonds and murdered the man who had raised him.  Later the boy would say he had dreamed of a weasel, the night before his escape.  So, for his liberty, Aford lost his wife, his respect, his son and his life.  A fine joke.

In a particularly bitter irony, Aford escapes from bondage to avenge his wife only to ultimately murder her for infildelity, not only take slaves but become the greatest slave-taker of his time, raise his adoptive son as a slave and eventually be murdered for his own mad cruelty.

His tale is told for decades after as a morality story, as well as a tale of how the weasel god has its fun at mortals' expense.  [20+5] So popular is this tale that Jilganheim is inserted into many other comic stories, both light and dark.

The Weasel Clan expands greatly by taking on slaves to swell its numbers and develop economic Slavery as a technology, improving their industrial capacity at the cost of social cohesion.  Soon a caste system of hunters/warriors and slave/gatherers develops.  After Aford's death, his adoptive son continues to spearhead the tradition.


Wrath blazed through the wronged man, filling him with strength and speed.  He gathered his hunting spear and knife and ran from his hut.  He ran for hours, the rage dimming to the glowering of a smouldering coal, but when he came in sight of the raider camp it flared up again, a furious flame.  He hurtled toward the camp, letting loose a scream of rage.  The raiders emerged from their tents, ready to fight some great warrior - when they saw only a scrawny man gliding towards them down the mountainside they laughed.

Until he arrived, swooping through the air and driving his spear through the first raider's chest before he could even raise his weapon to counter him.  The berserker hauled the spear out as the other five raiders clustered around him for the kill.  Fuelled by hatred the berserker wove, slashed and stabbed through the melee.  He dodged spears, ignored cuts and gashes that would have sent him crumpling to the ground a day before.  A red mist filled his vision and when it cleared he found himself tugging at his spear, trying to pull it out of a corpse.  Six bodies surrounded him and, gliding down towards him from the hillside, were people he knew.

Men of his village had seen him running and had made tracks to stop him from doing something foolish.  Yet they had arrived only to see him taking on six stronger, fully armed raiders - and win.  When they asked how he had done this, he pointed to a bird in the sky.  The raven, Promidalchus.  [20+5] Word spread quickly and many sought the wronged man to learn how to channel his rage and hatred as he had.  He taught them, training a whole caste of berserkers, but as he did so he wove worship and reverence of the raven into the training itself.  Because of this the worship of Promidalchus burned brightly within the Raven Clan.

[16] The wronged man proved himself a good man.  Though his strength was fuelled by hatred he found peace in avenging his family and, in time, wedded again.  The berserkers under his command (for showing his level head he was raised as champion to the chief) were used in defense of the clan as they travelled from mountainside to mountainside in their migration.  [9] Yet envy and hatred followed them for their skill.  Powerful as they were, raiders still tried and were slain, and their families and clans swore vengeance.  Attacks fell upon the clan time and time again, [9+2] but their berserkers helped them to stave the raids and assaults off.  [1+2] Despite the protection their berserkers could have offered, envy of their clan made them many enemies in their range.  They attracted few allies.

The wronged man avenges his family and trains a new class of Berserkers to follow in his wake.  He weaves worship of Promidalchus into his teachings, which burns strong within the clan.

The clan acts purely defensively, but attracts many enemies due to their ability to rebuff raids.  A one-sided cycle of vengeance begins as Raven Berserkers continually win battles against those that try to wipe them out.  The clan thus remains at its present size, though militarily stronger.


As Dolrael predicted, the earthquakes in the Bear Clan territory ceased.  Not so much as a murmur disturbed their lands and now that they were freed from needing to rebuild and move on, the clan was able to forage much more from their surroundings during their travels.  [3+5] Complacency soon became an issue however and although token worship of Dolrael did indeed continue within a generation most believed that the lands were naturally still and Dolrael was simply a legend.

Dolrael's blessing was not without its cost.  By suppressing the movement of the earth, the energy built up instead.  It released itself in other places along the spine of hills they lived in, causing more frequent and more damaging earthquakes in those places.  The release was not perfect however and eventually, unless the energy could be channelled elsewhere, the Bear Clan territory would suffer an earthquake of terrible magnitude.

The Bear Clan grows more prosperous, but only a meagre degree of worship persists for Dolrael.  Suppression of the earthquakes causes a buildup of power that causes earthquakes elsewhere but threatens to explode in a particularly massive quake if not dealt with.


[20+5] Sefton told his tribe his story, passing the time whilst he recovered.  He said how the falcon had told him of the islands to the north, islands that were mentioned in the old stories his grandfather had told him.  He told those stories too, filling in details with what the fox had mentioned and the techniques the falcon had taught him of flight.

[6] Sefton recovered in time, but his limbs did not heal correctly and he walked with a horrible limp for the remainder of his life.  Yet as ruined as his body was, his wings were intact and he still possessed some grace.  Making use of what Aeolos had taught him about updrafts and downdrafts, about how to sense and make use of them with a skill that his land-bound people had forgotten, Sefton demonstrated grace with gliding that a windrider of his age and injury should not have been able.  These techniques were taken up by younger, more agile windriders who displayed their flights with such skill they brought Sefton to tears.

Yet throughout his life, Sefton could never stop thinking about the islands he had heard of.  He made journeys on his own further and further north, taking supplies with him in search of the islands that were starting to appear in his dreams.  Then, one day, he found one, floating over the sea.  He looked up and found more, high in the sky amidst a river of golden, glittering dust.  [11] He returned to his clan and told them of what he had found.  Most believed him, but many were unwilling to leave the life they had for the possibility of life upon the floating islands.  Some were however and it was these that followed Sefton on his long journey north.

[13] The half of the clan that travelled north reached the islands at long last, ascending to them by travelling from the lifting and falling islands until they reached the dust layer.  The journey was one of great exertion, but nearly all of them made it - save the old and the weak.  Sefton did reach the islands he had dreamed of, but died from exhaustion and age upon their soil.  Nevertheless, he had led his people to their promised land, and there they prospered.  [2] Or they would have, but for the Coriolis storms.  When the storms swung around to their part of the world they were unprepared, not knowing that the safest course would be to head to ground and find a safe cave to conceal themselves in.  In the first year, three quarters of the clan were wiped out by the storm.  They adapted soon after, but it would take decades to return to their former status.

[17-2] Their surface-dwelling cousins, for all their disadvantages, had grown accustomed to their way of life and soon replenished their numbers once again.

The Falcon Clan learn Aerobatics, teaching them to glide much further and with greater agility and finesse.  The clan enthusiastically adopt reverence of Aeolos, but are split by the suggestion of moving to the floating islands.  Half make the journey and prosper, whilst half remain behind in their subsistence lifestyle.


One Hundred Years Later

Lilith Reso still lives, though her age is finally catching up to her.  Ludvig remains Imber's prophet, walking the land and spreading the word, but with little effect.  Age has caught up with him much faster - he soon will die. 

Knowledge, amongst those who have contact, will spread.  Benevolent as she was, not all of Lilith's apprentices remained with her.  Some fled, angered that they would never have a chance to rule in their lifetimes.  They fled to a neighbouring clan in the forest along the shore, choosing it for how easily they could work magic in that place.  The people who met them thought them messengers from the gods.  They most closely associated them with one of the creatures of their own mythology - the Spider Val Aurum, told to be master of the supernatural, of knowledge beyond mortal kenning.  The geomancers that joined their tribe might not have believed in their tales, but their appearance rekindled the old beliefs with such fevour that the ley line the clan camp rested on stirred and the Essence within took shape - the shape of a new god.

Val Aurum is born.  The Spider Clan acquire Geomancy.


Though no real relationship between them existed, the mountainside Falcon clan and the Lizard Clan were aware of one another.  Rarely their paths would cross as the Falcons sought food from further afield than usual, and on one of these occasions a Falcon windrider stayed to listen to their chants.  Though not converted by any means to glorifying the sun lizard, she thought how pleasant it would be to worship Aeolos in the same way.  In this manner, music was brought back to the Falcon Clan.  Equally the Lizards paid attention to the Falconers and though they had less use for it, began to learn the skills that would let them take a sort of flight from high places, though in the case of the Lizard windriders it was not so much a means of survival in high places but became a form of recreation and display, added to their ritual dances.

The Lizard Clan and Falcon Clan exchange Music and Aerobatics.


The expansion of the Shark Tribe lay them open to predation, which followed in due course.  The squabbling tribes of the Southern Marshes fought more fiercely than before, as if some current of belligerence ran through their veins, and equipped with deadlier weapons and tactics than the past they were forced further and further afield.  Some clans began raiding and even settling in the unfamiliar grasslands, trying to scrape out a living by foraging and looting grasslander tribes.  When these two forces met, raids became frequent upon the Shark Tribe and amongst their booty the Marshfolk brought back the throwing spears the Shark windriders had used to harpoon fish and bring down game.  These, the Marshfolk turned to hunting another kind of game entirely.

Not all were happy with this life of raiding, though.  Some preferred the peaceful, rich lives of the Shark Clan.  Others were simply too slow or too injured not to be captured.  Though they lacked the aggressive inclination to learn the tactics of hit-and-run, from these Marshfolk the Shark Clan learned the secrets of harvesting and applying poisons of their own.

The Marshfolk take Throwing Spears from the Shark Clan.  Defecting or captured Marshfolk reveal the secrets of Poisons to the Shark Clan.


To the east of Imartu, constant raiding raged between the Wolf Clan and everybody else.  They held a great degree of territory in submission to them and raided further and further afield for tribute and their annual sacrifices (which by now had expanded to more than just the one child).  Their raids took them into conflict with the Raven Clan, whose berserkers drove them back time and time again.  Yet it was only a matter of time before the rage that powered the Ravens was felt amongst the Wolves.  The followers of Slask learned from watching the scions of Promidalchus in battle and they too learned how to throw not just their fear of Slask but their rage at the world into their fighting style.

The Wolf Clan adapt Berserking from watching the Raven Clan in battle.


A hundred years since the formation of the first gods, some clans relax in peace whilst others are fraught with conflict.  To the south, the Marshfolk continue to raid the Shark Clan for food and slaves.  To the north, Weasel slavers have dominated a large amount of territory and are beginning to attack Bear Clan camps for fresh slaves.  To the east, the Wolf Clan raid the Ravens for sacrifices and tribute, whilst the Ravens have a shared enemy with many of the subjugated tribes but cannot get past the envy felt towards them.  In all these arenas, the balance is ready to tip with just a little intervention.

Code: [Select]

Promidalchus: 2 Minor (2)
Jilganheim: 2 Minor (2)
Aeolos: 2 Minor (2)
Orseth: 1 Minor (1)
Imber: 2 Minor (2)
Slask: 2 Minor (2)
Kain: 2 Minor (2)
Dolrael: 1 Minor (1)
Tokchoko: 1 Minor (1)
Utran'Vitran: 1 Minor (1)


Spoiler: Turn 2 Map (click to show/hide)

[adwarf]

Kain stood on a beach starring out at the massive ocean beyond, and as Lilith walked up behind him he spoke "So you have noticed, and you have came. You realize this effort will cost you your life?" She starred off into the distance, and nodded several times before replying "All I do is for the people, and all I have done is for the people. If it cost me my life life to save their lives then, so be it. I shall give my life if you will help me spare theirs." Kain looked up into Lilith's fear filled eyes, and said "Then my child, so it shall be. I shall help you channel the Leylines, and if you fail I shall save your people myself. Now let us begin."

Kain closed his eyes, and began drawing forth the tension in the earth of the Mole Clan lands. He drew it forth, and threw it into the oceans far out to sea, and then suddenly he began to shine. Taking the mole's place was a being that resembled one of the Chimera. "This is only one of my forms my child do not fear, I only take this to draw forth the power locked within you." With that Kain laid his hand on Lilith's shoulder, and she began to shudder as the power of the Leylines flowed forth into her. Sweat began to cover her body as she raised her hands to the sky, and the earth rumbled underneath. Along the edge of the beach rose a giant earthen wall, it spanned for many a mile following the coastline, but as the wall grew higher Lilith's body slowly began to break down.

Blood flowed freely from her mouth as she now fell on to the ground on her knees. Her hands were clasped as if in prayer, and Kain stood in front of her. As the last of her energy drained away, and he body began to be consumed by the Leylines Kain kissed her forehead. Once again the earth rumbled, but instead of earth rising Lilith simple disappeared. In her place laid a small crystal, within it was contained her soul. The Geomancers of the Mole Clan stood stunned at the sight of their God before them, and the loss of their leader, but something shocked them even more for the saw the God doing something no other God would do. Kain stood with tears flowing down his cheek, and falling to the ground.

"Someday I shall bring you back .. Someday Lilith you shall return." Kain said, and watched as his tears fell. Where his tears fell a stone flower grew, Ul'thial was its name, and it is said that once the stone flower became a real one, then Lilith would be reborn, and Kain would once again walk amongst them.

Draw the tension in the earth of the Mole Clan territory out into the sea, thus causing an earthquake, and tsunami. To stop it help Lilith channel the Leylines, and form a massive stone wall along the coast, but in the process Lilith loses her life, instead becoming a stone with her soul trapped inside.

Kain gives birth to Ul'thial, the beacon of his sadness, and prophet of Lilith's return.

[Shootandrun]

His powers were growing, slowly but surely.

The Bear clan was prosperous, but it forgot easily. They had grown because of him. They were what they were now because of him. And they forgot. He was only a legend for them. And now they were once again in need of help.

The Weasel clan was mightier than the Bear clan. Dolrael knew it. However, all hope was not lost. He would not let his people, his creators, end as slaves. The energy of the earth was great in these lands, since he had stopped the earthquakes. He felt another power use part of this energy in the south, but for now he did not care. There was plenty of strength in the earth. He could harvest it at his will, for he was the ruler of the earth.

For days, he worked. Slowly, slowly, he accumulated the energy of the earth. He assembled it all under the lands of the Weasel clan, and one night, while all of the clan members were sleeping, he unleashed the strength of the earth. The mightiest earthquake ever seen in this land started, and he watched as the people of the Weasel clan cowered in fear before his might. He could not have started an earthquake that powerful alone, not in his current state, but he had only needed to unleash an energy that was already present in this part of the world.

During the following hours, a tsunami reached the coast controlled by the weasel clan. Entire camps were razed by the water. Come morning, a good part of the population of the Weasel clan was dead or wounded and all of their camps had suffered at least some damage.

Now, it was time to use the disaster to his advantage. During the following night, Dolrael used all of his remaining power to spread dreams in the Weasel and the Bear clan. The members of the Weasel clan touched by the dreams heard “I am Dolrael. I am the protector of the Bear clan. If you return to the land of my people, I will destroy you, for I am the god of the Earth, and I fear no one.”

The members of the Bear clan touched by the dreams heard “I am Dolrael. I am the protector of the Bear clan. Once again, I have saved your people. Remember my name, and keep faith. I will always watch over my people, for I am the god of the Earth, and I fear no one.”

Now, he needed to rest. Unleashing the energy of the earth had been as hard as spreading the dreams. His part was done, for now.

Release the energy of the earth around the bear clan in the lands of the Weasel clan, to cause an earthquake and a tsunami. Spread dreams in both clans; threaten the Weasel Clan, and promise protection to the Bear clan.

[King_of_the_weasels]

A hooded figure sat impossibly at the top of a great pine, watching as apes drowned and families, well families as they were in such a place were torn apart, children, the elderly.. no one was safe from the roaring waters that swept across the forests.  He had already seen so much death, so much slavery.  His heart grew heavy at the thought of all the misery that had fallen to the clan, and how it was his fault.  He trusted a mortal.  He trusted an ape.  An animal.  His mind raced but there was no other conclusion, murdering for peace?  Slavering for order?  These things disgusted him, and yet... that was how things were in this world.  But then he saw as one ape barely clothed even for how shabbily they dressed, reached out to take the hand of a female in furs, pulling her to safety on the branch in which he sat upon.  He smiled, or would have if he had a face.  Somehow in all the destruction, these apes, these.. men still had decency to others, even those who wished them harm.  This was the first time he had ever seen a shred of kindness from anyone, and it came from destruction. From chaos.  Yes.. he could work with that.

Something shook against his seat, it was a slaver, calling out to him.
"You, slave rescue me this instant!" the beast yelled, and before he could finish, the figure was upon him. Grabbing him by his great shoulders.
"Ha Ha! Don't you know what's happening?" the figures hood flung back and his "face" revealed.
"Ji..Ji..Jil.." the slaver stammered, staring into the void.
"Don't you know!? HA haha" the figure repeated.
"You have flooded our lands as punishment for our sins?" the apes eyes wide in fear.
"Heh hehehehehehe... Not at all my good man!  I just wondered if you knew that you're all washed up! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHHAHAA!!!" the figure cackled as he threw the slaver back into the rapids.

Jilganheim begins his descent into madness, and makes it known that he approves of their (the weasel clans) fate.

[micelus]

A century had passed. Her flock had shrunk and grown many times over and her little experiment had bore fruit. The ape-people, windriders they called themselves, of the dwarf clan had spread throughout the peninsula's coasts, increasing in power and number as they did. Interesting truly. He often wandered why only these creatures lived like this, expanding and changing the landscape. Yes, she had helped with that, but even before that they would cut up whole sections of land to create living space. Even her flock didn't go to such degrees...

And yet, Orseth felt as if the clan could do more, be better. She knew that he could easily enter their minds again and plainly direct them to do what Orseth wished. But that would only weaken them in mind. They would look to her for guidance ever more, never trying to find the way themselves.

But Orseth also faced a dilemma; she found that he did have a hunger, a hunger for belief. She had been so ever hungry ever since she appeared in that man's dream...She needed more belief in himself.

Orseth thought on it for a time, before finally deciding. She would not control them completely, but guide them. She would make it clear the way to betterment, but not just give it. Finally knowing what to do, she soared.

He visited the villages along the coast, many empty of the tribesmen as the local food stocks had not grown. She found four inhabited; one in the north, nearest to the mountains; two  at the tip of the peninsula, a short flight to each other; and one far east, currently enjoying a bountiful harvest. She sent her flock to each village, telling them to gather around each. The tribesmen wandered at their appearance, some even joking that Orseth had come to claim them for a feast. After a time, the villagers returned to their duties, seeing that the crows meant no harm.

When night fell on every village, Orseth acted. She let her divinity manifest in each village, erecting a stele in each. Then as if the birds knew what to do, swarmed around them and pecked and scratched words into the very stone. Once the acts were done, several crows collapsed right there, and died. When the day returned, or in some cases, when the people got brave enough to check what all the commotion was all about, they found the crows still around the village, but a stele present as well. Complete gibberish to all, however. But when on put their finger on a letter or word, the very stone would produce a sound, telling exactly what the letter or word meant. And so, the dwarf clan learned.

Create  four steles in the various villages, each etched with words of wisdom and advice. If an individual puts their finger on a word or letter, the stone will produce the sound for the letter or the word. The phrases of wisdom mostly have to do with forethought, observance, tolerance, pragmatism, and creativeness, although other phrases for other things are there too.

[NUKE9.13]

This is the lizard clan's greatest accomplishment. A yearly celebration, which lasts an entire week, during which no one does anything but dance and eat and be merry- food is stockpiled beforehand, all tasks are set aside till the celebrations are over.

People from many clans come to witness this celebration. Some, like the people of the falcon clan, come to participate, showing off their acrobatics, which even now outshine those of the lizard clan. Others merely come to watch, and share in the merriment.

Strangers, then, are no strangers to this celebration. Yet this stranger is truly the strangest stranger ever to visit the yearly rituals.

For one thing, his hair is golden. Not blond, or brown, but golden. It shines in the sun, almost outstripping its brightness. His skin matches the colour of his hair. His clothes (a few strips of leather) have somehow been decorated to... well, match his body. There are even whispers that he comes from a clan of cannibals, and that he wears the skin of his brothers. But those who touch his robes know this is not true. They come with tales that his robes feel like the side of a pebble, smoothed by a thousand years of a river's touch, yet cold like the spring flood.

It is not certain when the stranger arrived, but the first time he was spotted was in the middle of one of the most elaborate dances the clan had conceived. One which recorded an old tale, how the lizard Tokchoko had come and taught the ways of music to them. It was just as the dancer playing Tokchoko was to leap into the fray that the newcomer was sighted. He took the bemused dancer's place, and played the part perfectly. Visitors were amazed, and complimented the lizards on their skill at fur painting. The lizards were too enthralled by the dance to explain that he was not supposed to be there until it was over, and the stranger had merged with the crowds.

He was spotted soon afterwards, however. By the cooking fires. He was jumping delightedly from fire to fire, taking food from this clan or that and trying a bit, then leaping over to another and insisting that they try some. The clans, of course, had no interest in trying each other's food. The sea clans, for example, ate shellfish and seaweed, which the mountain clans- such as the falcons- would never eat, not whilst they had their hardy mountain rodents flavoured with tough mountain berries. But under this stranger's supervision, they begrudgingly admitted that all the foods had a certain something, and soon they were exchanging food freely.
And so for the remainder of the festival the people shared their foods.

As the people stood around the cooking fires exchanging delicacies, the stranger slipped away again. But he was not lost for long, for now he was found by the musicians, testing their instruments. He blew on the lizard's panpipes a song so reminiscent of the sun rising that people had to shake themselves to remember it was evening. Then he took the shells of the sea clans, and blew through them the sounds of the waves, which the sea-people recognised, but frightened those who had never seen it. Then he took the streched-hide drums of the other steppe-clans, and played out the music of a hundred horses galloping the plains. Finally he took the gut-string harps of the mountain clans, and played their songs of travel and hardship.
The people were in awe of his skill at music, but he would play no more. Instead he encouraged them to share their knowledge with each other. He gave the lizard-musician a set of shells, the sea-musician a drum, the steppe-musician a harp, and the mountain-musician a set of pipes, and told them all to try. Of course, they failed hilariously at first, and all laughed. But they got better.
And so for the remainder of the festival the people shared their musics.

For the rest of that night the stranger was not seen. But in the morning (well, the dark before morning, as by sunrise the dances have started), as the people made to put on their clothes, they found them missing. In their place were the clothes of strangers. Feathers for the steppe-clans, hides for the sea-clans, scales for the mountain-clans - and shimmering gold, woven of steppe-grass for the lizard clan. The people were not sure if they should wear these strange clothes, but then they saw the stranger dancing past their tents, wearing not only his own golden robes, but also those of every other clan, woven together into a seamless whole. And the people laughed, and put on the strange clothes they had been given.
And so for the remainder of the festival the people shared their clothing.

Now the festival was drawing to a close. Food ran short, and the dancers were weary. There was but one more dance to be done. Under the sweltering midday sun, which was now at its highest point, they would dance. Everyone would dance. There would be no music but the sounds of their voices and the stamp of their feet. The people spread out, linked hands, and formed a great circle. And the circle began to turn. It spun faster and faster, not one man missing a beat, the song- a simple, repetitive tune- losing its form and simply becoming mindless chanting. And then the sun was directly overhead. The shadows disappeared.

And now the stranger appeared again. Not dancing with the others, no- standing in the center of the circle. Standing taller than any windrider ever stood, looking in all directions at once, staring everyone in the eyes at once. He winked, and then, vanished.

There was no way that the dance could stop, so it didn't. Now that the sun had passed its highest point, it began to slow down, slowly, slowly, until the spinning stopped. And then everyone wanted to know what had just happened.

"Ah, well", spoke the lizard-clan storytellers, "It must have been Tokchoko, musn't it?"
"No, no", spoke the eagle-clan storytellers, "It must have been Aeolos"
"You are all wrong", spoke every storyteller there, "Let me tell you who it was"

And so for the remainder of the festival the people shared their stories.

Tokchoko intervenes in the celebrations of the lizard clan. He makes of their yearly celebration a great exchange of ideas, goods, and beliefs.

[10ebbor10]

Aeolos watched as the falcon clan split and one part migrated towards the flying islands and the other staying where they were. Both halves started to grow apart from each other, as they hadn't no contact with each other, safe from the yearly meeting. The windriders were neither strong nor fast enough to bring daily or urgent messages, themselves and doing it himself was not an option. So therefore, he flew up to a large flock of migratory birds and attacked them, forcing some of them to land, while making sure they weren't to injured. He made sure they stayed near one of the mountain Falcon clan gathering grounds, and it wasn't long before one of the younger windriders found them.

He told the young windrider how to tame these birds, how to use them when hunting, how to make them come back to a certain place, noise or person. He learned him how to tame almost all species of birds, with the exeption of Peregrine Falcons, which are sacred. If a Peregrine falcon decides to stick with a windrider of it's own accord, it is generally regarded as a good omen rather than sacrilege. A windrider that has been chosen by a Peregrine falcon will be granted acces to the council of elders, which controls the tribe.(The falcon tribe is an oligarchy, with no real leader. While the council is led by a chief, he can't do that much whitout consent of the elders.)

After this, he went to the windrider tribe on the islands, which was still suffering from the effects of the first Coreolium storm. He went to the elders there and told them about the islands, about the many plants and the rich fauna, but mostly about Coreolium, the wonderfull substance that made their existance, and the existance of these islands, possible. He told them that they could be found in all  the plants and animals in the area, but that it could only be found in large quantities  by those who were willing to risk their life by venturing into the Coreolium storms. He also lectured them about it uses, which mostly involved making heavy things light, allowing one person to carry lots of materials by attaching Coreolium filled bags to them and heating it. After that he left but not before giving them this warning:
"Watch out for the fog, don't go near it. You don't want to meet that what hides itself there."
 
Aeolos teaches the windriders how to domesticate birds.
He teaches the windriders on the island on how to gather and use Coreolium.
 

[Fniff]

Slask walked into town in a large hooded robe, covered with spiral patterns. People stared at him as he moved into the center of the village. The Chief (The one who ousted the old one from power, the boy's father) stared at him with accusing eyes. Slask felt a chill. Even if this mortal could be killed easily, his rage burned inside like a forest fire, after all these years. Slask smiled under the darkness of his hood. Perfect.

He threw off his hood, letting his wolfish face be shown. He exposed his teeth. The Chief jumped, (Despite his advanced age) and stabbed Slask in the heart with his dagger, screaming a battle cry. Slask grabbed his neck in one hand and ripped out the dagger in another. Then he smiled. "I knew you were the right choice."

"Die, you... You monster!" The Chief yelled.

"I have a proposal." He set down the Chief. "I need a pack. Lone wolves die quickly, and I shall be no exception. You shall become my pack. I will teach you methods untried, defeat countless tribes and give you gifts of power. I shall even bring back the Chieftain's son." Then he muttered something.

The Chief's eyes were wide. "My... Tomas?"

"Yes. What do you say?" Slask looked around at the gathered group. "I shall undo what I have done to you, lead you to victory and give you mastery of the forest."

The group thought.
If the tribe says yes, reanimate Tomas. Little do the tribe know, he will have a certain gift in battle. He shall become a hellish man-wolf, utterly dedicated to murdering the other side. Explain it as a mistake.

[adwarf]

Kain felt it once again, another power drawing from the earth the great stores of tension taht have built, but what this being was he had no idea. Thus, he travelled for many days, and many nights Kain dug, and he burrowed, but much of his travels were taken on land to keep the balance of the earth intact. In time he came upon a region where this power was great. The being was near, and, so Kain called out "Being of Earth, that has summoned forth its rage, and quelled its sadness come forth. I wish to meet the one who has power over the earth to such extent."

[thatkid]

Even as the chieftain lunged and drove his blade into Slask's heart, a raven watched. And hated.

The tribe that the chieftain led sacrificed the young of their flock for protection, a perversion in its highest form. Some beasts may abandon, some, such as certain groups of the ant-beasts that scuttled across and under the earth, might even take others as slaves. But none, none sacrificed their young to predators and none took to the hunt on the behalf of one that was not of their pack. It was sickening.

And now the beast whom they sacrificed to, a god of the forest, offered a choice that would corrupt the order of things even further. Something must be done.
The raven shuddered, its sleek ebony wings ruffling in the wind.

---

As the tribe considered the beast's proposal, a second stranger entered into their midst. Ragged and gaunt, his eyes burned with the hunger that dwelt deep within the belly of every living thing. As he shifted and spread his arms in greeting some gasped to see his wings-- for there was no mistaking it, it was not by some trick of the light that he had momentarily possessed the feathers of a raven.

Then, just as his counterpart had done the same moments before, the stranger threw back his hood to reveal a face twisted by hunger, rage, and lust. The skeleton in wanderer's garb swayed, and opened his mouth to speak. As he spoke, a flight of ravens burst from the brush behind him and took to the sky. His voice boomed.
"Unnatural!" he roared, though his lips barely moved, "You have twisted the way of things, and you have driven yourselves off the path of the world!"
He shifted now, half shambling half floating towards a group of nearby tribesmen, "Does the Deer leave her young at the mercy of the wolf?"
He spun, just as it appeared that he might strike out at the crowd, and shifted towards the others, who stood by a wooden cage which contained a captive from a recent raid. "Does the wolf," he roared, his face twisting into a vicious sneer as he came on them "Hunt so that he might feed another?"

He tore through the crowd, shattering the wooden cage with a swipe of his hand and plucking the captive youngster from the wreckage with terrifying strength.
"NO!" he roared, before suddenly tearing into the child's throat with a vicious bite, sinew and bone snapping. Blood dribbling down his chin he threw the still-dying carcass at the feet of the tribe, and swallowed. "The Deer protects its young or flees with it! A wolf's pack hunts only for its own!" His eyes glimmered with the terrible rage that hid within the hearts of all men, and he roared "NOW FEAST ON YOUR KILL! OR FLEE LIKE PREY!"

Before the group of Windriders whom he had thrown the corpse to had time to react, Promidalchus spun once more, turning on Slask and the Chieftain. Blood still ran from the gaunt traveler's chin, his hands, nearly claws so skeletal they were, dripped with ichor.
"And you," he rumbled now, approaching the wolf-man god, "those who are dead, remain so. This is the way of things. Are you a protector of the forest? Or do you corrupt it?"

-Promidalchus appears to the Wolf Tribe at the same time as Slask, bidding them to obey nature and put an end to their sacrifices, and the perversion of nature that it brings, and to either consume the products of their "hunt" or flee Slask's domain. He uses his control over the nature of people and things to swell their fear even further during this encounter (he also acts really scary, I guess?)
He then challenge's Slasks offer to perform necromancy as a corruption of nature (Not sure if this counts for an act, please let me know if it does)

[Fniff]

Slask frowned. Who was this bastard? He took out his spear from seemingly nowhere.

"Balance? There is only the strong, and the weak. There is no balance, there is simply evolution. This is not perversion. I may do as I please, as long there is no-one to stop me. There is no law but what we set for ourselves, but we are not exactly trustworthy fellows, are we? Thus, no-one can set down laws. Even nature does not have laws. But, let's say there are laws. Let's say... That these laws say that..." He put on a mocking tone. "That simply noooo-one can raise anybody. Not even Gods! Now, if your laws of nature forbid this act..."

Slask walked over to the fallen child, and picked it up by the neck. Green energy glowed from his hand, and the child shuddered in a hellish way. The wounds healed, and Slask let go. The child fell onto the ground, but stood on unsteady legs. The group gasped.

"Why do they allow it?" Slask concluded, glaring at the stranger. "Unless you want to set the laws, and you are quite biased, I must conclude that there is no laws and that I can do whatever I wish. Nothing to corrupt, my brother."

Raise the fallen child to prove a point. This child unfortunately got the short end of the stick by actual accident, and now feeds on the blood of people by night. If he goes out at day, he turns to soot after this day.

[thatkid]

"The dead do not rise on their own, brother." Promidalchus spat, all the vile and contempt of each warrior of each warring tribe in the area working its way into his words, "But if you wish for evolution for this people, then you shall have it."

With a blood-stained sneer the traveler turned to the child, now ignoring the wolf-man who stood before him. "Come, child, you must be hungry. The newborn often are, for it is the way of things. These people know not how to hunt, they offer their prey to others. Teach them. My brother prides himself as some great huntsman prowling these woods, and yet knows nothing of the way this world works. Teach him." And as he spoke the reborn child's hunger grew, his need to eat swelled and stole from the hunger of all the beasts and tribes of the area until, finally, he was possessed with a ravenous urge to consume, far greater than that of even the most hungry of men. And Promidalchus willed him to remain this way forever, and so it was.

The child snarled like a beast gone mad, for surely that was what it had become, and lunged at the still-gathered crowd, tearing into the flesh of its first victim. "You wish for evolution, brother? Then have it. Those who this child slays shall rise like him on the next night, unaging as the dead are, and hungry as he shall always be."

"But I shall not punish those who know not of your ways. And so the hunger he feels, and the hunger of all his kind, will be sated by the sight of my sign." Promidalchus spoke to nobody in particular, his words weaving the curse of hunger and infection which now struck the boy and his victims. Silently, Promidalchus turned his back to Slask and the Tribe of the Wolf, and set off upon another path away from that place.

-Promidalchus curses the reborn child to be filled with a ravenous hunger that can never be sated. Those he kills while trying to sate this hunger will rise, becoming like him upon the next night. These creature's hunger will be sated only when viewing a raven's feather.

If possible, Promidalchus attempts to make those among his devout aware of this fact. But since he's out of acts...

[Ardas]

The power of belief is a strong thing. It may make a man walk on hot coals with his feet unburned, it can carry a mind to transcend the mundane and see into the beyond.
That power focused and combined with the energy of the leyline gave birth to Val Aurum.

His mind already full of arcane knowledge, be it through the power of the Leyline or through the combined experience of his believers, giving him his gestalt form.
He saw the tribe of his believers and saw a great potential, still locked in the puny physical forms. They had to be nourished and brought up before their minds and bodies were ready to experience the full power of the arcane.

Geomancy, as much as it was amazing for the mortals, was a mere baby-step with the powers and rituals that Val Aurum had control over. The pure, unbridled arcane power, the rituals of binding, control of soul energy, bending of the physical and the connection with the divine; but it would be centuries before any mortal would be able to touch these. Val Aurum sought a suitable candidate, and none of the current mortals, be it in the Spider Clan or anywhere else would be able to even understand these powers.

But they were quick learners and understood a lot of the natural world surrounding them. The river and the sea where they lived provided the tribe woth a lot of sustenance, and there were ways of making more of it than they wrere doing already.

Subtly but steadily, Val Aurum encouraged the mortals of the tribe to observe the spiders, their weaving and their webs. It was then when one fisherman, when working with his spear, saw a cobweb fall into the water. Despite the water and the current, it stayed together, floating away in the distance. Gently nugded by Val Aurum, the idea struck him. He took some vines, reeds and other grass and begun weaving it all together in a manner of a spider web. It took him long and he struggled a lot, but he finally managed to produce a rudimentary fishing net.
It would take time to refine it and there were other materials to be discovered to produce the nets, but once the idea is planted and proven, it would survive.
Val Aurum begun his work of shaping the mundane by empowering the mortals; this was but the start of the long journey.

Val Aurum helps the Spider Clan discover better fishing techniques and skills (namely nets and rudimentary weaving of natural fibres, no cloth yet)

[Shootandrun]

Despite his sleep, Dolrael heard the call. His powers were not fully recovered yet - indeed, he had only started to rest a few mortal months ago, which was an incredibly short time for a god like him - but he could perfectly talk to another of his kind. He knew that there were many gods in this world, and he also knew that one of these gods had great powers related to the earth, but this was the first divinity that he met. This one had the form of a mole, hinting that he was not a user of brute force, unlike Dolrael. He appeared near the other god in the form of a great brown bear, and when he talked his voice was like a roar.

“I have heard your call and I answer, Brother. I am Dolrael, God of the Earth and Protector of the Bear clan. Who are you, and why do you interrupt my rest?”

He had called the other God ‘Brother’; while this was a mortal concept; he thought that they could be considered as brothers, since they were both born from the same legend, just like all of the other divinities.